To Catch A Thief
by Majestrix Windrider
Summary: Ororo Munroe and Jean Grey are master thieves, as well as best friends. When blackmail comes into the picture, so does the dashing Remy LeBeau and his boss. Through all the pain and crap that gets thrown between them, will Ororo and Remy still be able to
1. Default Chapter

"Ready?"

"Ready." The two women looked at each other and laughed, stepping easily into the building.

*

The teller looked up and stopped to stare. And they were coming his way, to _his_ window. Apart, they were amazing looking, together, they could sour a man on any other woman in the world. Both were tall, slender, built to the secret aspirations of women everywhere. Drop dead gorgeous.

The one on the right could only be called breathtaking on a bad day. Long white hair fluttered around her head and shoulders all the way down her back, making you want to bow down and beg to touch it. Her legs were long and shapely, and looked soft to the touch, her skin a perfect simmered chocolate, causing her to look as if she appeared from a dream. Dressed in a light blue pinstripe suit, the skirt Ally McBeal length, riding up slightly as she moved. 

The one on the left was spectacular, her fire red hair so bright it almost hurt to look at it, sitting in layers around her face. Her nails were as red as her hair, which she raked through her mane with a grace that left some men quickly taking off their wedding rings and women swearing they would work out more. Her complexion was that of the natural redhead, fair skinned and delicate. Clad in a similar suit, although it was a hunter green, made her perfection.

They smiled as they stopped at his window, and he suddenly thanked God he didn't take his lunch break early. "Hello, how may I help you?" His voice came out squeaky, and he felt the burn of embarrassment on his face. The white haired one just smiled and looked at his name tag.

"Ronald. Hello. We're going to need a private room to talk. I knew you were the one to speak to. You resonate power." Her cultured voice threaded through him, and he was suddenly glad they couldn't see him from the waist down.

"Um…right this way…" Ronald hastily came around the partition and motioned towards one of the rooms the bank used to woo its most valuable customers. Once everyone was in and the door was closed, the bank resumed its important work of holding the population's money.

*

"What can I do for you?" Ronald asked as he turned around to the two women. The redhead smiled and stepped closer to him, her long fingered hands suddenly adjusting his tie and smoothing his collar. His legs almost buckled.

"You see, we have some business to take care of here." She leaned closer and fixed the cuff of his collar behind his neck, making sure to caress the sensitive skin there.

"What do you need done?" He could barely use his voice, and he didn't know whether to stare at the fire goddess that was in front of him or the cool one that had sat down and crossed her legs. What was a man to do?

"My name is Marilyn." She breathed.

"Marilyn? Like Marilyn Munroe?" Ronald asked, stuttering. The smile he received was enough to give him a heart attack and give his heart to her forever.

"I told you he was smart Patricia." Marilyn said as she turned to her friend. Patricia inclined her head, bringing down the blue tinted glasses she wore perched on her delicate nose.

"So you did."

"Patricia? Patricia Ashton, wife of Malcolm Ashton of Ashton Industries?" Ronald managed to get out and Marilyn stepped back.

"Correct. We need to look at her safety deposit box." 

"Do you have ID?" Patricia looked slightly hurt and confused.

"You see Ronald, my husband was angry with me when he left this morning, and I wanted to make it up by dressing up very nice and taking him out to dinner. I didn't get to get my purse. I was moved by passion." She breathed the last word, an innocent look deep in her eyes. Patricia wrung her perfect hands and looked contrite. 

"Ronald, do you really think she's trying to pull one over on you?" Marilyn asked, slightly admonishing as she took off the green tinted glasses she wore and pushed them beautifully on top of her head, revealing the emerald eyes beneath.

"No…of course not! I'm sorry Mrs. Ashton."

"Please, call me Patricia." She smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Do you think you could open it for me? I would be eternally grateful."

"I…I would have to call Mr. Ashton." He said regretfully.

"No, don't do that. She wants it to be a surprise. Please…" Marilyn asked, planting a small kiss on his cheek. The small, nerdy man let lose a strangled cry and started to nod furiously.

"I'll get it for you. Just wait here." Both women smiled and Ronald wondered if he was going to have his first orgasm without a porno tape.

*

The two women stepped out of the cab and smiled at the doorman who let them in to their building. Riding the elevator all the way to the penthouse, they didn't say anything until they were in the apartment, door closed.

"Oh, that was so easy it was sad." Jean laughed as she slipped out of her pumps, putting her glasses on the ornate table in the foyer.

"I know, I hope Ronald doesn't get into too much trouble." Ororo sighed as she stretched, taking off her jacket, revealing the cream colored silk blouse and pinstripe vest underneath.

"Oh please. If he didn't drool all over us I could most likely muster up enough sympathy to probably feel sorry for him. Come on, what did we get. We were out of there so fast I couldn't inspect it." She rubbed her hands together as Ororo pulled out her purse and sat down on the cream couch, pouring their newly acquired jewelry on the coffee table. 

It clanked interestedly, and Jean picked up a necklace that caught her eye. She looked at it with the critical eye of a jeweler, which was a hobby of hers. "Hmm… Marquis cut, the gems have excellent light and clarity. With this alone we could get 200 grand."

"Not bad. I think we should pick something we like and sell the rest. I love this ring." Ororo held up a platinum banded, diamond studded and sapphire ring. "Now how much do you think this set old Malcolm back?" She slipped it on and admired it.

"Definitely tens of thousands. The woman has good taste." 

"Too bad she has to be a bitch." Jean nodded amicably. The sudden sound of clapping startled the two women, and eyes wide they turned to the source of the sound. A man was standing there, clapping softly with his gloved hands.

"Magnifique ladies. I must admit, I now realize why Interpol has you on the top ten most dangerous thieves list. Very impressive." He walked down the three carpeted stairs and stood between them and the view of the New York skyline. The man was tall and athletically built, slender but with a muscled physique. Shoulder length auburn hair sat like a mane around his roughly handsome face, his brown eyes piercing. Ororo felt the heat of his gaze and looked away, heart pounding.

"Who are you?" Jean asked, voice hard as she crossed her arms. Ororo sat beside her silently, mind reeling as she wondered how the man could have snuck into their apartment and they, let alone she, not have known or noticed something was amiss. She looked up at him and inclined her head respectfully.

"I'm Remy LeBeau, and I have a proposition." He said easily.

"And why should we take it?" Ororo finally asked, standing up. LeBeau threw a manila folder onto the jewelry, and Jean picked it up. Opening it, a picture of herself stared back at her. Confusion blew across her face before being swallowed up by indifference. Tugging Ororo back down beside her, she showed her the pictures and watched the frown form. 

Someone seemed to have tracked them for most of their career, pictures of the women entering the buildings of their heists and a list of evidence they left. Ororo's eyebrow rose at that list. "See, your information is flawed. We don't leave evidence." She smiled confidently.

"Oh, be assured you do. The FBI is too dense to find it, and it was hard for even us, but you left enough to put you behind bars for the rest of your lives. Think about that. You'll be too old to charm your way through life." 

"What do you want." Jean stood up and nervously slid her fingers through her hair.

"My employer wants to meet you. You'll find out the terms of the deal there."

"And who is your employer?"

"Does it matter? He wants to meet you, and if you don't, then-"

"Then you'll kill us?" Ororo cut him off, another big headache forming.

"No. Nothing that crass, I assure you."

"Gee thanks."

"You'll just be put out of commission. And if you try to schedule another heist, the lockbox that contains the entire list of all of your hits and the evidence to convict you on at least 200 counts of theft around the world will anonymously be sent to the FBI headquarters. I'm sure they'll know what to do." He smiled at the two dejected women."I'll be back tomorrow at noon for your decision. If you decide to meet him I'll take one of you to see him. It will be a public restaurant, for his safety and your own. Don't do anything stupid or the box will pop up."

Jean watched him leave as silently as he left and gave a soft scream. "Why is this happening? Why is it happening now?" She half yelled at Ororo, who had went to the bar to pour herself a drink.

"I don't know, but it's happening now. We must deal with it." She swallowed some and willed herself to relax. 

"So what do we do? You're the brains of the operation."

"Thank you for reminding me."

"Seriously. What are we going to do?" Ororo finished her drink and shrugged, turning back to Jean. 

"What can we do? If we don't meet him we can kiss our careers goodbye." Jean winced.

"I'm too beautiful to retire. Besides, this heist goes to that group of orphanages and soup kitchens we looked at. They really need the money."

"I know. But what if we did quit?"

"And what, get jobs? Go back to being nine to five people? Having to budget?" She said the last word as if it were a curse. Ororo laughed and shook her head.

"So you want to meet him?"

"Yes. Just to see if we need to kill him."

"You know I don't do that unless it's necessary."

"I think we should check this possibility out. Are we both going?"

"I don't see why not."

"Fine, I'll be ready."

*

Remy was somewhat excited, one of the first assignments that he looked forward to. Two beautiful women with a better record than he was hard to find. He looked down at the folder in his lap. A large picture of Ororo Munroe lay on top of the pile of photographs. 

When he looked into her eyes, they were entirely too naked for someone of her profession, and it bothered him slightly, and intrigued him like hell. Remy knew it was dangerous to become attracted to someone you were coercing, but he was lost as soon as she walked past.

He looked up as the limo came to a stop. He was there. The window rolled down smoothly and to his surprise Jean and Ororo were waiting for him. "Hello ladies. I'm guessing you've made up your mind."

"We have." Was all Ororo said as she crossed her arms. The driver quickly got out and opened the door, allowing Remy to stand and move out of the way. Jean smirked and got in first, followed by Ororo, and then Remy reentered, and they were on their way.

"You look nice Ororo." He laughed as she glared at him slightly, crossing her arms and looking out the window. A tope wrap around shirt revealed modest cleavage, an ivory choker at her neck. Her African print skirt came to her ankles, and she wore high heeled strap sandals, hair in cornrows. Still she hid behind a pair of dark glasses, and he couldn't see her eyes.

"And you as well Jean." She smiled frostily and looked at Ororo, a curious stare on her face. Her hair was straight today, hanging to her shoulders in a waterfall of fire. She was dressed in a tight blue silk blouse and matching mini skirt, blue pumps, a string of pearls at her neck.

"So where are we meeting your employer?" Ororo asked finally, watching the scenery go by. 

"Spango's. Ever been?"

"A few times." The limo stopped, they arrived at their destination. Stepping out, they were immediately the center of attention, as always, and while they made their way to the front of the line, many people racked their brains trying to remember what ad they saw all three of them model.

"LeBeau, party of three." The host nodded respectfully, showing them to their tables. Once the menus were distributed and the host tipped generously, Remy stood up again and bowed. "I'll be leaving now."

"You're not staying for the meeting?" Ororo asked, confused.

"No. He'll be along in a moment. If you'll excuse me." Both women watched Remy leave the restaurant. Jean turned back and picked up the menu.

"This gets more and more on my nerves."

"Mine as well. I guess we should order." Ororo looked at her menu as well. 

"I didn't think women as refined as you would order without the guest of honor. Please, don't get up."

"We weren't." Jean said as she watched the man come up the stairs that led to the private platform they were seated on. The man was short of stature, but made up for it in pure muscle. Harsh brown eyes peered back at you with discerning earnest, as if he could read your mind. Cigar perched on lips twisted in a perpetual sneer, he looked like a shark in a thousand dollar suit. 

Taking off his hat, he revealed a thatch of untamable hair, and sat down. "Well, he wasn't exaggerating when he told me how beautiful you two are."

"Who are you?" Ororo asked, uncomfortable with the whole situation. At least Spango's was crowded this time of day.

"I am Mr. Logan. That's all you need to know. How about we order?" Logan took his cigar out of his mouth and looked at the menu. "Don't worry ladies, it's on me." Jean smiled and signaled for a waiter.

"I'd like a sirloin steak and a baked potato, no butter, no salt, sour cream and a diet coke. 'Ro?"

"I'd like a five green salad and a Dr. Pepper." Logan looked amused from above his menu. "What?" 

"Don't tell me you're one of those women who order salad when men pay."

"I'm a vegetarian. Do you want to order?" She asked testily.

"I'll have the swordfish."

"Very good. Any wine with that order?" The waiter asked, eager to please.

"Yes, a bottle of your best Merlot. We're making a business deal." The man was off with a nod and a smile.

"Business deal. Oddly enough, I don't feel we have a choice in this." Ororo reminded him, smiling briefly as their drinks was delivered.

"Not particularly." Mr. Logan waited until everyone was out of earshot. "Your reputations as thieves precede you both. As well as your beauty. What I want from you is the completion of five tasks. Then at the end of the last one, you'll be released, and the only copies of the evidence against you delivered to you."

"And why should we even risk it? We could just stop where we are. No more crimes." Ororo's smile faded slightly as Logan brought out two pictures and gave them to them. One was of Ororo's parents, gardening at their summer house in Westchester, and the other was of Jean's parents, on their boat in the Gulf of Mexico. "Where did you get these?" Her voice wavered.

"Does it matter? I have them. Now you both come from very privileged homes, you've never wanted for anything, and you both have large trust funds that you will receive on your twenty fifth birthdays. Now, what do you think it will do to your parents when they find out what you've been doing?"

Jean's left eye twitched slightly as she slid her fork out of the silverware bundle and slammed it down on the table. Logan looked down in shock and surprise, the cuff of his sleeve pinned to the linen tablecloth by the tines. The slender hand that delivered the blow moved away and smoothed the cloth, and Jean sat back. "You're not playing fair." She said mockingly. "You have us over a barrel, and we were led to expect this was a totally choice oriented venture."

"Well, perhaps I misled my emissary." Logan growled as he grasped the fork and started to tug, but it wouldn't come out. A slight frown covered his face as he yanked more forcefully, but it wouldn't budge. People started to stare at the table curiously, and he left it alone for now.

"Perhaps is right. Look. We'll take the jobs-"

" 'Ro!" Jean hissed as she glared at her best friend. Ororo put her finger to her lips and shook her head.

"If you can guarantee our safety."  


"It's done."

"Good. We're done here." Ororo leaned over and lifted the fork from the table as if it were nothing. Mr. Logan watched them walk out, drawing attention as they left. Almost growling, he lifted the table cloth and chuckled. The fork was thrust straight through the thick cloth of his sleeve and the tablecloth to the wood beneath, almost half an inch indents were visible. 

*

"I misjudged them. Of course I knew they were great at what they did, but their tactics surprise me. Very few women do." Logan lit his cigar and laughed. "I bet they'd be great in bed."

"Have they agreed?" Remy asked, trying not to let on that Mr. Logan's comment angered him in any way.

"Yep. I want you to deliver the first job and its requirements in two days. This is a test."

"Yes sir." He stood and left, and he still didn't know why he was so angry.

*

Jean had her arms crossed as she watched Ororo fix herself a salad. Tired of watching her friend stare, she turned and glared. "What do you want bitch?" she asked conversationally. Jean laughed.

"Oh don't play coy with me slut. I know you're attracted to him." She flipped her hair and started looking for a bottle of good salad dressing. Ororo shook her head in denial.

"I don't think anyone could be attracted to Mr. Logan." Jean slapped the bottle into her hand and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, please. You know I mean Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious. I'd put him on a bun and eat him." Ororo smiled and took Jean's hand, showing her the ring on her finger.

"Yes, but you're engaged aren't you?" Jean jerked her hand away and shrugged good naturedly.

"A girl can dream can't she? Besides, that means he's yours for the taking. You don't have to worry about me trying to snag him too."

"You have way too much self esteem."

"That's like saying you're wearing too much Channel." Jean followed Ororo into the living room, where she plopped down on the couch and turned on their television. Both women were silent for a while until Jean tapped her on the shoulder.

"What?"

"You know, you could have spread your legs and used those orange airplane cones to wave him in and have been more discreet. This little 'I'm too shy to tell you I want to rock your world' is kind of old, don't you think?"

"Jean…"

"Okay, okay. This isn't a good situation." Ororo looked at her with a big 'duh' expression.

"Of course not Jean. That's why it's not going farther than the appreciation of the way his arms move underneath his shirt."

"You have it bad."

"Oh shut up."


	2. Well Fancy Meeting You Here

The bass of the music pounded through her body as she sat at the bar, nursing her drink and cursing her bad luck. 'Slim pickings tonight ladies.' Ororo told her cleavage as she glanced around the club. Damn Jean and her fiancé. They would usually hit the hot spots together, but not since she became engaged.

A light mixture of techno and R&B started, the dance floor crowded. She would like to dance. But not by herself, not right now. Putting down the complimentary strawberry daiquiri Ororo smiled at the bartender and started to move with the music unconsciously.

"Hey pretty lady." She looked him up and down in a second. Definitely college prep, has stuffy parents, and reeked of money, and does not know how to dress for a place like this.

"Hello." Ororo went back to her drink, a definite dismissal. The guy stood there for a second, then sat down in the barstool beside her. She felt his gaze roaming her body, and she hid an exasperated smile as she turned back to him. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes, you could. Dance with me." She wanted to gag. Absolutely Californian, bleached blond by the sun and blue eyed. Boring. 

"I really don't feel like dancing." His eyes hardened.

"What's your fee?" Ororo blinked at the meaning.

"Excuse me?"

"I guess they'll let anyone in here. It's apparent you're on the job, so what's your fee? I'd like to take you home tonight." Ororo stood up angrily, and threw her drink in his face. College Prep stood up as well, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close to him. 

"Let go of me." She hissed, angry.

"No, you're getting out of here, coming with me."

"You heard the lady. Let her go." Ororo looked over College Prep's shoulder as he turned around. Remy?

"This is none of your business, so I suggest you crawl into whatever hole you came from. I was on the wrestling team in Harvard." He pumped himself up slightly to make his point. Remy's eyebrow rose, and was mock impressed.

"That's nice, but you don't want to worry about me just yet." College Prep looked confused, but it quickly passed as Ororo's knee was jammed into his groin. He let go of her wrist and with a weak cry fell to the floor, the two burly bouncers coming to throw him out."You okay?" Remy asked her as she sat back down, face flushed.

"Yes, thank you." Ororo shook her head and laughed ruefully. 

"What's so funny?"

"I came out to have fun, but I end up being mistaken for a hooker. It's kind of put a damper on the night. If you'll excuse me." She stood up again and started to leave. Remy gracefully slid between her and the exit, looking her over. Ororo was wearing a short and slinky silk dress in white, no sleeves and a very low collar, heeled sandals completed the ensemble. 

"He didn't think you were a prostitute. He said that so he could get under your skin. You're too beautiful to be bought, and he knew it. A lot of men feel better about themselves when they make women feel uncomfortable. Don't leave, or he'll win."

"So, you're a professor of psychology now?" She smiled, flattered. Remy laughed.

"Hardly. I know jerks." A new song started, the whole club almost pulsing with energy, and Ororo grabbed his hand.

"Want to dance?"

"With you? I'd love to." The song was instrumental, the dance floor packed. Both were great dancers, letting the music move through them as they came progressively closer. Remy breathed in the scent of her hair, the feel of her body through the silk arousing him. No way to think, to reason, the music blew your mind away, just leaving the dance floor.

Ororo's hands stole up his neck as her hips touched his, the dance liquefying into a slow, smoldering grind. His hands gripped her waist harder, bringing her closer, and her head fit the space on his shoulder, the heartbeat just another rhythm. She looked into his eyes, a light brown as they burned into hers. What she saw there thrilled and excited her, and without hesitation, they kissed.

She was incredible. Remy had never met anyone with such spice, such sex appeal as Ororo Munroe. She tasted like lust, mint, and strawberry daiquiri as he plundered her mouth, coaxing a slight moan from her beautiful lips. The song ended and jerked them painfully back to reality. Pulling away, he felt a slight ache, as if not touching her was painful.

"That was fun. Thanks for the dance." Ororo blushed. She couldn't believe it. She was blushing like a school girl.

"No problem chere."He led her to his table. She sat down and smiled at him, interested.

"Chere?"  
"Lets not get into that. So what brings you out to Club Jubilee?" Remy asked, putting his arm around her shoulders. Ororo laughed and pushed it away.

"I wanted to have some fun."

"Did you find it?"

"Maybe."

"Good." A comfortable silence settled over their area, and Ororo regarded Remy for an instant. "What?"  
"What are you doing here? I refuse to think it was just coincidence."

"Well, I didn't know you'd be here, but I sort of work here." Remy sipped his Jack Daniels and looked around. "Mr. Logan runs this club."

"So, its one of his legitimate sources of income."

"Correct."

"Do you always treat your blackmailees this way?" She asked him, arms crossed. His jaw tightened and he gave a short bark of laughter.

"What, mad that one time in your life your looks or your money can't get you out of your situation?"

"You caused my situation, if you failed to recall." Ororo started to become angry, and they both unconsciously moved away from each other.

"And we told you to go around stealing from people."

"NO! I didn't say that. My life was-"

"Let me guess, perfect. You know what, people like you really disgust me. You have everything passed to you on a silver platter, and still it isn't enough. So you decide to go and steal, or do something else to fuck up your perfect life. That's not my fault, I'm just one of the people who decided to call you on it."

"Is that right."

"Yes it is." Ororo smiled bitterly. 

"Oh, I hate you."

"Really. What was that on the dance floor then?" Remy asked, angry at that confession, more than he cared to admit.

"The music, the proximity. The kiss was a mistake. Just like sitting here and talking to you any longer. If you'll excuse me." Ororo stood up and left the club. Remy watched her leave with narrowed eyes, more than half of him wanting to go and bring her back. Instead, he just finished his drink.

*

'Stupid idiot. Why did you kiss him?' Ororo wondered angrily as she accepted her keys from the valet. Getting into her jag she pulled away from the curb, and dived into the late night Manhattan traffic. "Because…he was sexy and cute and kind of heroic and he smelled really nice." She said out loud. If it weren't for everything, she would really like him. Maybe even give him a chance, maybe try not to hurt him. 

She slammed her foot down on the pedal and roared down the lane. No time to live in the world of maybe, deal with what you have now.Ororo looked down as her car phone rang. "Hello?" She asked, pushing a button.

" 'Ro, we've been asked to make an appearance." Jean's crystal clear voice floated to her ears. 

"By whom?"

"Mr. Logan. He says he has the details for our job."

"It never ends." Ororo muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'm about five minutes away from the house. I'll be there soon." 

"Okay…what's wrong?"  
"Nothing."

"Don't give me that crap. What's wrong."

"I had a little run in with Remy LeBeau."

"The hottie with the long hair?" Ororo laughed, letting the top down, the wind easing through the cab of the car as her hair was picked up and danced on the wind.

"No, the arrogant bastard who thinks he knows me."

"Ah. Is he a good kisser?"

"Yes. Wait! How did you know I kissed him?"

"Oh please. I'm almost telepathic when it comes to you. Look, we'll talk about his later, Scott just paged me to say he's off duty for the night, and can I come over to help him relax."

"You mean sex, more sex, and more sex?"

"If you want to get crude about it, yes." The women laughed. "I'm going to go. I'll be back in the morning."

"Yeah, whatever. If your pelvis hasn't fused with his."

"I make no promises."

*

"Mr. Logan will see you in a moment."

"It's about damn time." Jean said as she glared at the secretary. The woman stared back angrily, bristling at the woman's presence. She had never met anyone she thought was prettier than she was, and here two women who blew her out of the water were sitting in the same room with her. Shit.

"Jean, can we not cause a scene?" Ororo asked, sitting in the waiting room patiently.

"No, we cannot. We have been waiting for almost fifteen minutes. He called the meeting. He knew he wouldn't be able to see us at this time, so why in the hell did he schedule us now?" Jean came over and sat down beside her, still fuming.

"Just calm down. Personally, I don't want to see him right now."

"And I don't want to prolong it." The two women sat in silence.

*

"Ooh…they are prettier when they're angry." Logan said as he watched them through a monitor. Remy looked up from the file he was reading and gave vague agreement. Jean's hair was done in a complicated pattern of cornrows, a black leather corset and matching pants adorning her svelte body. Ororo wore a pair of tight denim flares and a very thin tee shirt, chic rock in sparkly letters across her bust. 

Tearing his eyes away from the hidden camera's monitor, Logan pushed the button on his desk. "Send them in Sarah."

"Yes sir." Sarah turned to the two women. "He's ready now. Just go up the stairs, the only office at the top."

"Of course. You've been so helpful. For professionalism, maybe you should stop shopping on the clearance racks at K-Mart, maybe bathe before you come to work..." Jean gave her a big, sugary sweet fake smile and Ororo pulled her up the stairs before Sarah could respond. 

"That was so unnecessary." She said as the walked up the stairs.

"Like her attitude was? Besides, she's ruining my Scott buzz."

"I doubt anyone can ruin your Scott buzz." Ororo shook her head and opened the door at the top of the stairs. 

"Jean and Ororo. Good to see you here." Jean raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"You called us here fuzzy." She reminded him as she took a seat beside her best friend. Mr. Logan's gaze flickered for a moment, then it was swallowed up by a fake smile.

"That I did. Jean, has anyone ever told you have a serious mouth problem?" Jean's red eyebrow rose into her hairline.

"Only the ones I've refused to give head to." She said sweetly. Remy hid a grin behind his folder, and Ororo rolled her eyes.

"Ah, of course. Can't be too many of those floating around, can there? Look woman, I'm sick and tired of how you talk to me. Apparently you need to be told who is in charge of this situation." Logan flung a picture at Jean, it fluttering onto her lap. She picked it up and peered anxiously at it.

"How…? I mean, did you…" Her face became pale as she handed the picture to Ororo. She took a look at it and gasped. It was Jean's parents in an elevator, a man behind them with a gun visible. They apparently weren't aware of it, from the looks on their faces.

"I did it like I told you I'd do it. I'm not just going to tell them what their darling daughter's been doing between freelancing, I'm going to torture and kill them right after. How would you like that? Your darling sister, maybe mutilated, severely disfigured. But it wouldn't matter. She'd be dead."

"Bastard."

"I wouldn't have to be if you would remember who is in charge of this situation." He smiled coldly. "Now, since we've gotten that out of the way, on to our original business. A statue."

"A statue?" Ororo asked, her arm around Jean, who still looked pale. She knew how she felt, the Grey's were like a second set of parents to her.

"Yes, in Atlanta. I trust that won't be too far for you to go."

"No. What building."

"Myriad Corp. Located in the lobby. If you don't retrieve it, then I'll kill one of your parents. One of both of your parents. If you botch it, then I'll have to cut off a finger. Is this all soaking in?"

"Perfectly. Are we done here?" Jean rose angrily, eyes reddening.

"Not quite. I want Remy to come along." Logan smiled.

"Remy?!" Ororo jumped up, slightly indignant.

"Me?" Remy stood up as well, confused and a little put off.

"Yes you. I want someone there that I can trust. You're the perfect man for the job. End of discussion. I want it by Friday." Ororo grabbed Jean's hand and pulled her out of the office quickly.

" 'Ro, today's Wednesday. It will take the rest of the day to get my plane ready, and pack, that leaves us only one day to scope out the building. We've been there, but we've never scanned for security." Jean hissed as they almost jumped down the stairs.

"I know, but it's not like we have a choice. At least it's a building we know. One day will have to suffice." Without another look the two women left the building and darted into Jean's car. Starting her up, she slid into traffic, and felt better as they pulled away. It was silent back to the apartment, and Ororo tipped the valet who took the car. Jean stared at her the whole entire trip in the elevator, until it started to grate on Ororo's nerves. "Jean, what do you want?" She cried, as she pushed into their apartment.

"What do you feel about Remy coming along?"

"I want to know why he has to tag behind us. It's not like we've never stolen a statue before." She huffed, pulling off her shirt and pulling on a comfortable tee shirt.

"We haven't." Jean reminded her, smiling as she poured herself a drink.

"Oh yeah…that's right." Ororo started throwing things on her bed as Jean came in, nursing her burbon.

"I can't have this mess up." She said, trying to disguise her worry. Ororo looked up angrily, then relented, a comforting look on her face as she sat her best friend down.

"Look, he's threatened my parents too. The only reason why I'm not freaking is because I know we're the best at what we do. Period. Whether it be jewels or statues, whatever. We rule."

"We do, don't we?" Jean sniffed back a tear and gulped the rest of her drink. Ororo rose again to finish packing.

"I'm going to go start."

"Okay. What time should the plane be ready?"

"About nine. We'll leave and get there just in time to have some fun."


	3. Welcome to Atlanta

"So this is Atlanta." Remy mused as they sped into the heart of the city, the night life and the night lights coming out in full swing.

"Oh yeah. Hotlanta as Marie would call it, right 'Ro?" Jean smiled.

"Whatever." Ororo leaned her head against her fist, her arm resting on the door of her convertible. She eased through the traffic of the highway to the exit.

"You know, you suck the fun out of everything." Jean looked across the front seat to her. Remy looked on with interest from the back.

"I'm not the one who sucks around here." She reminded her.

"Like hell you don't. I know you've worn out some kneepads."

"Screw you!"

"That's Scott's job." Ororo burst out laughing, her best friend following immediately after.

"You both have problems." Remy shook his head as they pulled into the parking lot of a building of condominiums. 

"Yes, we do. The luggage should already be here right?" Jean asked as she got out of the car, letting Remy out as well.

"Most likely. But if they aren't, we have clothes here." The three started walking to the door.

"But I don't." Remy reminded them as they walked in and to the elevators.

" 'Ro wouldn't mind you naked." Jean quipped, not looking at either of them. Ororo closed her eyes, half in embarrassment at her total transparency, and half at the race of her pulse at that image. An image indeed…

*

"Here we are, our Atlanta abode." Ororo quickly unlocked the door, anxious to get away from him. It became hard to think when she was around Remy. This situation required her to think.

"What time is it?" Jean asked, turning on the lights.

"Eleven." Remy looked at his watch. She smiled and started to dance, looking at Ororo.

"Let's go."

"You don't want to get any sleep?" She asked, already thinking of what to wear.

"No. I'm not tired. Are you Remy?"

"No." The redhead turned back to her friend.

"See. Don't make me whine."

"Oh all right." Ororo went into her room to change.

"Where are we going?" Remy asked as he watched Jean take her pearl clip out of her hair and shake it out. It resettled around her shoulders as if a professional stylist had just finished with it.

"To a club. You like to dance?"

"Of course. All Cajuns like to dance." He said dryly.

*

Turning onto Peachtree Street SE, Ororo pulled up in front of a brick building, The Rogue written above the large doors in neon script. "Why hasn't she sprung for a few valet by now?" She complained. Remy helped her out of the car, admiring what she was wearing. A pair of snug silk pants in purple, and a matching velvet halter top, her hair in a high ponytail. She took his breath away, and they paused slightly, looking into each other's eyes. 

"Because. Save your bitching for when we get inside." Jean smiled from the sidewalk at the long line hoping to get in the club. Jean led the way, walking straight through, the velvet rope clinking back into place right behind them.

The foyer was deceptively quiet. Tasteful blue marble and silver accents adorned the hall, the only door at the far end. Two bodyguards were stationed in front wearing cream and navy suits, and as the group neared, they opened the large metallic doors.

The club was crowded, the music deafening, the energy eclectic, electric, and ecstatic. Remy looked around, absorbing his new surroundings. A large, circular dance floor was raised higher than the main area, a mass of bodies moving to the music.

The bar was on the second level, against the wall around the room, it's counter glass lit from a soft blue light within, encircling the whole room. The strobe lights were imaginative without going overboard, the music mostly hip hop and r&b. 

"So what do you think?" Jean said over the ruckus. 

"It's different." He said, starting to move with the music. His eye caught a large black man walking through the rapidly parting crowd. The man had dreadlocks, some sort of scar over his right eye, although that in now way subtracted from the man's looks.

"Bishop!" Ororo laughed as she was swept up in a hug that lifted her from the blue carpet.

" 'Roro, how you doing? It's been ages!" Bishop smiled as he set her down. He was almost a head taller than she was.

"I know. I came in on business, and you know I couldn't stay away." She smiled and stepped back. "You look great."

"I know." He looked past Ororo to Jean. "What, so you can't hug a brother or something?"

"You know I'm engaged." Jean laughed, crossing her arms. Bishop nodded, becoming mock serious.

"Yeah, I heard. I don't want Scott to kick my ass." She started laughing, giving him a hug. When they pulled apart Bishop shook his head, smiling ruefully.

"So you and him huh… We all thought you hated him. I never figured in a million years that you would get married to him."

"Neither did I, but it just happened." She shrugged.

"What, you fell into his lap?" Ororo smacked him on the arm playfully.

"Be nice." She looked at Remy for the first time in three minutes and felt kind of embarrassed at forgetting him. "Oh, Bishop, this is Remy…an… associate." The men shook hands.

"Nice to meet you." Remy said, noting the firm grip of Bishop's handshake and the calculating eye.

"Same here. I got a table. Want to join me?"

"Of course." Jean smiled. "You're our big brother."

"Oh yeah. Come on. The Mouth of the South saw you two come in."

* 

"Ah knew it was ya'll when Ah saw the doors open. How long has it been!" Marie crowed as she watched her friends slide into the booth with her. 

"Two years, I think. You weren't here when we stopped through last year." Jean said as she gave the southern woman a tug on her white locks. "Interesting dye job." She smiled.

"Ah know. I mean, Ah woke up with the inspiration and it looked good. Sugah, you gave me the idea." Marie nudged Ororo as she displayed her hair. Her tresses a naturally vibrant chestnut, the top was snow white, thick layers lying on her shoulders in alternating colors.

"I'm flattered…for some reason. So, how has the club been?" Ororo asked as she signaled for a waiter. 

"Great girl. Business is booming, and no shit has gone down since Bishop has taken over security for me on the weekends." She smiled at Remy. "And who are you?"

"Hello chere. My name is Remy Lebeau." He reached around Ororo and grasped Marie's hand, kissing the back of it briefly. She beamed as she took her hand back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Remy Lebeau…isn't that Cajun?"

"Beautiful and observant." Jean raised her eyebrow at Ororo, who looked like she wanted to gag.

"Ah've lived almost all my life here in the south. Ah can identify an accent pretty easily. So what do you do?"

"I am the CEO of Roche Megacorp, and I manage Club Jubilee." Bishop nodded.

"I've been there before. I had a conference in New York and someone recommended that club for some relaxation. Very cool place." He said.

"I'm glad you liked it." Remy smiled and turned back to Marie. "So how do you all know each other?"

"We went to the same prep school, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, stuck together in college, and kept up with each other when we graduated and scattered. Hey, anybody want a drink?" she asked, signaling for a waitress. "Okay, it's on the house. Stacy, I'll have a Liquid Sex, straight."

"Blue Martini." Ororo said, taking out her compact and checking her make up.

"Bite Me Dammit." Remy kept looking at Marie.

"Just make me a Sex On The Beach." Bishop cocked his head and listened to his earpiece. "I've got to take care of a situation. I'll be back."

"Okay, take your time." Jean thought for a minute. " Give me a Screaming Orgasm." 

"You don't get enough of those Shugah?" Jean ignored the snickering around the table and sent the waitress away.

"You are so wrong. Just because I'm getting some on the regular and you're not, doesn't mean you can make fun of me." She grinned. "You guys watch my drink. Bishop!"

"Yeah?" He said as he made he way back to the table.

"Let's dance."

"You sure Scott won't be insanely jealous? I mean, I am a living sex god, and I could make any woman orgasm on contact. He might not want me to touch you…but-"

"Oh, get your ass on the dance floor." They laughed as they left. Remy turned back to Ororo.

"What's between them? They date or something?"

"Nah, they're just really good friends. Jean knew him before she knew me." Ororo said, glad when the drinks arrived. Marie took a sip of hers and smiled, a new song coming on.

"Remy, would you like to dance?"

"With you chere, anything." Remy took her hand and they left, leaving Ororo alone at the table. She frowned and crossed her arms, mad at being abandoned. She turned in the booth, allowing her a view of the dance floor. 

The floor was lit, illuminating the dancers. She could pick out Jean and Bishop, enjoying themselves as they laughed, danced, and talked to the music. But in the corner Remy and Marie had just made it there, already wrapped up in each other.

Murder she wrote…murder she wrote… 

The reggae beat slid through the room, making everything sinuous and smooth, liquid dancing at its most erotic. The Rouge was where dancers came to dance and be seen, Marie being a prima ballerina in Atlanta's premier ballet company. Her grace and flexibility showed as she danced, Remy being an equal partner.

They slid together and apart, grinding to the music in perfect sync. Ororo felt mad. Why was he dancing with Marie if he knew she liked him? 'Because you said you hated him, remember?' She thought. Ororo glared at the dancers, anger building every minute they were in each other's arms. But soon the anger collapsed into sadness. Life wasn't fair. Circumstances weren't fair.

"Wanna dance?" She turned and frowned. Some nameless nobody.

"No."

"You sure-"

"Not with you."

"Are you-"

"Can't you get the picture?" Ororo glared at him, her famous ice glare, making her look like a frigid queen.

"Perfectly." He walked away and she watched, downing her martini and blinking back tears, picking up her purse and walking away. She made sure she wasn't spotted, not wanting to wait for anyone.

*

Jean felt her friend leave and she sighed, spinning back to Bishop and rolling her eyes. " 'Ro left?" He asked, dipping her playfully.

"Yeah. Can you give me a lift?"

"You know where the train station is."

"Bishop."

"You know I would. She likes the Cajun, doesn't she?"

"Yeah. Does Marie know?" Jean asked, looking over to the couple, who was totally into each other.

"Of course. She's wondering why Ororo hasn't made her move."

"Because she told the man she hated him."

"That could ruin the start of a relationship."

"So I'm told."

"But it didn't stop you and Scott from getting together, did it." He grinned at her.

"Oh shut up." Jean laughed.

"So where did she go?"

"Home."

"To do what?"

"Pout."


	4. Breaking and Entering

The glass and steel building of Myriad Corp. loomed ahead of them, and Ororo lowered her binoculars. "Now remember, the cameras are pointed at the lawn as well. We'll have five seconds to make it two hundred feet."

"Piece of cake. Piece of strawberry shortcake…ooh…I'm hungry." Jean said as she adjusted her headset and backpack.

"I thought I told you to eat before we left."

"And since when did I start listening to you?"

"Can you guys move it along. The patrol will be coming around in ten." Remy's voice came over their sets, making it seem as if he were standing right behind them. Ororo rolled her eyes and exhaled, psyching herself up.

"Yeah, yeah. We're moving." The redhead jerked her finger towards the roof. "Let's have some fun."

"Yes, lets." The girls slid out of the bushes, dressed in matching garb of black formfitting suits. Not one ounce of wasted material on them, allowing full freedom of movement as they made their way over to the smooth surface of the structure with cat like grace. 

They were silent as Ororo turned Jean around to unzip the book bag, taking out two grappling hooks. Jean zipped it back up as she was handed her hook, and they both threw them onto the roof. It caught on the ledge, and the women quickly and quietly ran up the side.

Once on the roof Jean repacked their equipment, Ororo taking out her glass cutter and placing it on the brilliant shell of glass that was the roof. Turning it on, it released a low grade laser, easily slicing through the material in a wide circle.Lifting it off, she bowed to Jean playfully, allowing the redhead to jump in first.

Jean landed on the support beam above the lobby, catching her balance quickly as she rolled to give Ororo room. She dropped in next, and they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you two okay? You should be in by now." Remy said, hating to be left behind. He wanted to help, because whatever they thought, he didn't want them harmed.

"Yeah, we're in. Will you stop badgering us?" Ororo snapped, hitting herself on the forehead as she lost control.

" 'Ro, chill, okay? He's not the problem. Let's just do this quickly and get out." Jean ran along the beam, stopping at the display case for the statue. It was a squat and ugly thing to her, clay with small and murky diamonds adorning it.She turned to her best friend and shrugged. "What do you want to do?"

"Let's roll out the line so I can get a better look." She said, getting their rope rig. Jean looked down at the beam they were standing on and cocked her head.

"Will this be strong enough?"

"Let's check before we try, shall we?" Ororo moved back, away from Jean and held out her arms on both sides, Jean doing the same. "Ready?"

"Ready." Both jumped into the air, flipping swiftly and landing back on their feet, throwing down all of their weight forcefully. The beam shook, wood dust rising, but it held. "Oh good. Come on, get your ass down there so we can leave." Jean placed the rig on the beam, tightening it up and giving Ororo the end.

She wrapped it around her leg, securing it tightly. "Set." Jean nodded and Ororo fell backwards, stopping with a jolt that had her wincing. 

"Sorry." Ororo looked up and shook her head.Jean lowered her slowly, her head six inches above the top of the display case. Leaning back, Jean watched her friend work, her part over for now. "So Remy, are you there?"

"No."

"Cute. Did you enjoy the club last night?" Remy sighed and rubbed his eyes, leaning back against the couch as he remembered the whole night.He danced until two o'clock with Marie, and all he could talk about was Ororo Munroe. She listened to him with a smile, surprisingly understanding of the whole situation. When he went to apologize to her, he found she had left him and Jean, and he didn't see her until they left to check out the security the following afternoon.

"Yeah. Marie can move." Jean wisely pushed the button that would allow her and Remy to talk privately as Ororo worked to maneuver beyond the motion sensors below.

"That she can. You know, this is like Charlie's Angels meets Mission Impossible2." Jean thought that over. "Although I think I look better than Cameron Diaz."

"Is this what you talk about when you're on a job?"

"Yes. Unless there is something better. I mean, do you want to here how severe my last period was?"

"I think you do look better than Cameron Diaz." Remy said hastily.

"Figured. You can be Bosley."

"Bosley. I am too good looking to be called Bosley." 

"I'm sorry, but you've got to be someone. Unless you want to be 'The Chad'."

"You're sadistic."

"That I am." She looked down at Ororo, who was motioning her arms. She signed the word 'key', and Jean raised her eyebrow. Spelling 'laser', Jean looked surprised, throwing down the key that would manipulate the lock.

"Any problems?"

"No, just ran into something we didn't expect. How much longer do we have?"

"Five minutes." Remy checked his watch.

"We'll be long gone by then." Ororo bit her lip and quickly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, it almost giving them away. She didn't know Forge had sold the patent for his laser lock, glad she had a key configured to it before they left for separate colleges. She frowned involuntarily. Forge, that bastard.

The lock popped without a sound, Ororo catching the door before it could set off the alarm. Reaching in carefully, her glove hand grasped the statue, pulling a seven point two three weight out of her cleavage and placing it on the velvet platform, dodging another alarm.She placed it in her bag and tugged on her rope, interrupting Jean's laugh and closing the door.

"Ready?"

"Yes. Let's go, unless you're too busy flirting with Remy." Ororo retorted, reaching up to grab the beam. Jean took the statue and put it in her pack, taking the rig a loose and turning to allow Ororo access to the bag as well. 

"Three minutes ladies." Remy said, on edge.

"We're leaving." Jean said as they ran back to their exit.

"Correction. We're gone." Ororo jumped up through the hole, reaching back in and giving Jean a hand, both women placing the heavy glass back in the hole, Ororo taking her glass cutter with her. 

Leaping to the ground, they stayed in the shadows for seven seconds, running over the manicured lawns towards their car on the next street. Footfalls on the concrete made the two women freeze, ducking into the nearest bush as an early patrol made its way around the lawn. The scant light from the street revealed a security uniform, a rather scrawny man holding a night stick unthreateningly. Jean grimaced as the man looked around slowly, and walked back to where he came from. Once he left they waited another two minutes just in case, before tumbling out.

"Ooww…" Ororo moaned, biting her lip as she rotated her shoulder. "Of all the bushes you chose, you picked a sticker bush. A big, sticker bush."

"Look Mother Nature, I couldn't glance at the shape of the leaves and know what it was, where it came from, and if it's in season. That's your job, remember… ugh. I'm going to have to go to the dermatologist. Who knows what kind of pesticide they spray on these plants." Jean grumbled as they ran to their car. Jumping in, they sped away.

"If you bleed on my upholstery, you're walking." Ororo said, leaning forward.

"Your concern is endearing."

*

Remy opened the door anxiously, glad as he saw the two disheveled women walk in tiredly. "What happened?"

"We had a run in with some aggressive shrubbery." Jean limped over to the couch and put her back down, and walked to her room. "Wake me for the flight. That's it."

"Good night sunshine." Ororo said deadpan.

"Screw you bitch."

"Love you too." Her door closed and she walked over to Jean's pack, opening it and giving Remy the bag. "Here it is. You can scurry back to your employer and tell him we kept our word."

"I don't scurry anywhere." Remy said, snatching the bag. This woman was a paradox. She alienated him as she drew him closer, infuriating as she was arousing. There was nothing in the middle about her. He immediately regretted yanking it out of her grasp as she winced, grabbing her shoulder. "You okay?" 

"It's not like you care." Ororo turned away, the pain and the hurt in her heart clouding her mind. She just knew she had to get away. Closing her door, she stripped off her shirt and bra, putting on a camisole that left her wound bare. Getting some cotton balls and the peroxide, she dabbed some on a ball and tried to get to the middle of her back.

Groaning in frustration, she jumped as another hand closed over hers, taking the ball from her grasp. Ororo turned, eyes wide at the sight of Remy, so close to her. "Let me do this chere. You can't reach it, and it will get infected." He turned her around gently, cleansing the room. "Why are you so stubborn?" Remy asked, dabbing the multiple cuts with the precision of someone who has done it many times before.

"I am not. If you didn't work for that man…"

"But I do. Does that change your feelings for me?" He placed the bandage on the site, pushing the adhesive to make sure it clung. His fingers trailed off of the gauze, to her satiny skin, warm and chocolaty, a definite contrast with his own. 

"How could you work for someone like that?" She asked, turning to him. Remy sighed and took her hand. 

"Because when I was twelve years old I was alone. I didn't have any parents that I knew of, and I pickpocketed and hitchhiked my way up north to New York City. I wanted to be in a big city where no one knew me.

"It was winter, and being a Louisiana kid, I had no idea how harsh it could be during north chill. I didn't want to go to a shelter, and I had no coat. I got trapped in a rainstorm one night, and caught a cold.

"I was very sick, and I stumbled into a warehouse. I almost collapsed on a group of boxes when this guy spotted me. I tried to get away, but I was already weak, and I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

"He took me to Mr. Logan Roche, who was conducting some 'business' at that time of night.I was running a high fever and delirious, and when he asked me what was I doing there, Ijust told him the first thing that came to my mind. I said the cops were on their way.

"Logan looked at me for a moment, then gave the order to move out. Everything was cleared away, and as they shoved me into his limo, the police pulled up. I still don't know why I said that, but it saved my life. 

"He said he was grateful, and opened the door to let me out. I stumbledinto the snow, but got up, determined to put some distance between the group of men and myself. But I didn't get two feet before I fell flat on my face.I woke up two days later, and Logan Roche has helped me ever since." Remy shrugged. "I owe him my life."

"I see. What did you do for him?" Ororo asked, taking the slightly bloody cotton ball from him, throwing it in the wastebasket. 

"Small things at first. Errands, counting money. Then around fifteen he started having me snatch things. I was really good, never got caught, never left a trail. He'd use me against his competition. I went to college and got a business degree, and helped build his legitimate enterprises. "

"Why don't you just go into business for yourself?"

"I'm in too deep chere. I know things that would keep someone awake for life. This isn't a life you walk away from…alive." A shiver went through her body, and instinctively Remy put his arms around her. "You okay?"

"I worry about you." Ororo smiled sheepishly, pushing a lock of hair from his eyes. They were standing so close, his body heat warming her inside and out.

"I didn't know you cared." He stared at her lips, watching them move as she talked, the sweet fullness of them so close he couldn't stand it. He had to kiss her.

"I do." Whatever she had the mind to say afterwards was swallowed up in the feel of his lips against hers, hard and soft at the same time, unrelenting as Remy pulled her closer. Her arms snaked around his neck, causing them to meld comfortably as he plundered her mouth. 

He tasted of tobacco and masculinity, and an exciting smell she could not name. It seeped into her pores and turned her on, his hands drifting down to her hips, which started to move on their own.

They broke apart breathlessly, still clinging to each other as if they were the only anchors in the world. "I need you 'Roro…" Remy whispered, causing her eyes to flutter shut at the sound of her name. "I need you so badly. Ever since I met you I knew you were to be mine." His kisses trailed down her cheek, across her pulse point.

"I am not an object Remy." The words came out half hearted, for she wanted to be his, and his alone, the thought sending a thrill through her.

"Non chere. You like a jewel, too precious to let out of my sight and protection. Be mine Ororo." He pulled back to stare into her eyes. She gazed back, knowing she had found her soul mate as she looked into his eyes. Ororo saw herself reflected in them, and a life that would be full of love if she could just take a chance…if she just took a chance.


	5. Coming Back to Earth

            "We just talked."

            "Just talked? You two were hanging all over each other like you were married." Jean leaned against the mahogany paneling of the elevator and grinned at Ororo.

            "It's good to be back in New York." Ororo said, ignoring Jean's comment.

            "Oh no you don't. Yeah, we're back home, but what's going on with you and Remy?" She sighed and turned to her best friend. 

            "He wants to mlskt me."

            "What?"

            "He wants to mlskt me." Jean laughed.

            "Since when do we keep secrets? What, did you two do the happy dance or something?" Ororo glared at her as the elevator doors opened, releasing them at their apartment.

            "You know me better than that." She said as Jean produced her key first and unlocked the door. Once inside a rich baritone voice reached their ears, and Jean started to grin like an idiot. "Oh goodness." Ororo muttered, shaking her head and descending the stairs into the living room. "Scott! Why are you singing show tunes?"

            " 'Ro, I've told you, I can't have passionate sex with you under an island sun. I mean, what would Jean do as we went at it like rabbits?" Scott came out of the kitchen wearing a ridiculously large chefs hat.

            "Kick both your asses. How are you sweetie, didn't expect you to be off today." Jean said as she took the tongs out of his hand and kissed him lovingly. "And why do you keep trying to cook? You know you are culinarly challenged."

            "There is no love in this room. What will our marriage be built on ?" Scott asked dryly. 

            "Sex and money."

            "Sounds good to me." Ororo looked over her shoulder and smiled at her two best friends.

            "So Scott, why aren't you sleeping? I mean a whole shift from the hospital? That's got to be a rarity." She said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Ororo squealed as he threw her over his shoulder casually.

            "It is, but I thought I would spend time with my two favorite ladies."

            "I see…can I get down?"

            "Can you?"

            "Scott, come on. Let me down."

            "I don't think so."

            "Seinfeld's on." He perked up.

            "Really?"

            "Yes!" Ororo laughed. "Put me down!" She yelped as she was dropped on the couch. Laughing, Scott shoved her over and sat down beside her as they turned on their favorite show.

            "You know, isn't it stereotypical for New Yorkers to love Seinfeld?" Jean asked, watching the banter between her fiancé and her best friend with amusement.

            "Do you hear something?" Ororo asked, crossing her legs and settling in.

            "Not at all." Scott shrugged, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. Jean just nodded and smiled grimly.

            "I guess someone doesn't want me to salvage the food they tried to cook…or at least that's what I hope you tried to do with it." Jean shot back. Scott blanched and turned around, smiling innocently.

            "You're the light of my world." He said helpfully.

            "I know honey. Just watch your show while I do containment." Ororo raised an eyebrow as Scott turned back around.

            "You know she loves you." He expelled his breath nosily, a half laugh.

            "Yes I do. I tried, I really did…but you have more than one pan, and that threw me off." Ororo nodded.

            "It's amazing you don't starve."

            "Hey, I know how to dial a phone. Hello, Chin's Deli, yes, It's me Scott. The usual." She laughed.

                                                                        ~*~

            "So how did it go?"

            "Better than I expected. You were right, they are amazing." Logan nodded and spun his chair around slowly to gaze at the New York skyline. Remy placed the statue on the long conference table and took a seat as well, waiting for more information.

            "I know. I've been tracking their very young careers." He turned back to his second-in-command and steepled his thick, strong fingers, one curled around an unlit cigar. 

            "Why this statue? It's not worth much." Remy slid it over to Logan, arms crossed. "I know you wouldn't have sent me on a wild goose chase."

            "You're right, I wouldn't. You see, I had to make sure nothing happened to the statue itself. As you can see it is very ugly, and people are subconsciously more careless with ugly things." 

            "Will this be a lecture on the subconscious, or are you going to tell me what's so special about this thing." Remy knew he was treading on thin ice with Logan's temper. He has killed for less said, but he wasn't just an underling. Remy was almost like a son to him, and that granted him slack in places others would not be allowed.

            "It's not really the statue, but what information is inside." Logan picked up the porcelain and diamond crusted orb and threw it to the marble floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He smiled as what he wanted was revealed. A minidisc laid gleaming on the floor, and Remy picked it up as he brushed pieces of vase from his slacks.

            "What's on it?" He asked, spinning it around in his hands. Logan's face hardened and he stood, swiftly coming to stand in front of Remy, snatching his disc from his hands.

            "Nothing to concern yourself with."

            "Fine." Remy stood fluidly, his duster stirring the air near his feet. "Do you need anything else?"

            "We have a board meeting scheduled for tomorrow. I want room B used." Remy's brow wrinkled in confusion.

            "Why B?"

            "Just cleaning some house." Remy nodded and left, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

                                                                        *

            "Good afternoon Delores."  Ororo greeted one of the domestic staff as she walked through her parents foyer. The blond haired maid looked up from her work and smiled. Delores had been with the Munroe family for as long as Ororo had been alive, standing at five two and grandmotherly overweight, she was like a friend of the family.

            "Afternoon to you too dearie. Just dropped by?" Delores asked, giving the taller woman a fierce hug that belied her age. Ororo nodded as she slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the rack.

            "Wanted to talk to mom and dad before they left. Are they still leaving tomorrow?" She asked, smoothing her lavender blouse.

            "Yes, Percy is packing them up now. A whole season in Africa…what are we going to do without their company?"

            " I'll probably rearrange Dad's dark room."

            "And you know he'll have a fit." Delores admonished.

            "Very true. Where are they?" She asked.

            "In the Solarium, with Mr. Xavier."

            "Uncle Charles is here? I'll talk to you later Delores!" Ororo threw over her shoulder as she started up the first of four flights of stairs.

            "See you later too dearie!" A few minutes later Ororo reached the top floor of the Munroe mansion, a large glass dome called the Solarium. On one side was her and her mother's sprawling indoor garden, where they spliced and cultivated hard to grow plants in perfectly specified environments; and on the other was one of the swimming pools and an area where guests could relax and have fun.

            Walking through the oak paneled arc, Ororo stepped down into the soothing room, the glow of the setting sun feeling warm on her skin. "Ororo baby. There you are."

            "Hi Daddy." She smiled as she was enveloped in a large and loving hug. David Munroe was a physically imposing man, tall, trim and handsome still in his later years. The only clue to his age was the swirls of gray at each temple, rendering him distinguished. "Ready to go on your trip?" Ororo asked as she pulled back.

            "Sure am. Your mom's been bugging me about when will we be able to get back. I thought this would buy me some time." Her father added, whispering conspiratorially. 

            "I heard that David, and that will cost you." N'Dare Munroe smiled regally, walking to her daughter and giving her a hug. "It's been two weeks since you've come to visit. Are you alright?" She asked Ororo. Her mother carried herself like a queen, for since birth she was groomed to take the throne of the Ashake tribe in Kenya.

            With her long hair that hung down her back, you could see that its color ran in the family. Not a wrinkle on her flawless face, or an ounce of makeup, she was a woman who put you at ease with her smile, or could stop you in your tracks with a glare.

            "I'm fine Mom, just very busy. Freelancing is taking a lot of time." Her mother nodded.

            "I understand, but I wish you would come with us. The last time we visited your grandparents was over two years ago. Ever since they imported their computer, they're emailing us and wanting a picture of you. So we sent some old ones." N'Dare's slightly accented voice held a hint of laughter in it.

            Ororo frowned. "Not the potty picture."

            "You weren't here to pick baby girl, so we had to do it for you." David laughed and put his arms around his two women. "Come on, your uncle heard you were here. We were just having lunch."

                                                                        *

A Few Hours Later…

            Ororo and her mother placed the lunch dishes on the dumbwaiter, preparing to send them to the kitchen. N'Dare watched her daughter fidget for a few minutes, and decided to question her. "Ororo?"

            "Hmm?" The beautiful woman looked up, a distant look in her eye. She almost dropped a dish, catching it a split second before it hit the ground. Frowning she placed it in its spot carefully, and turned to her mother. "Sorry, I'm just a bit…"

            "Distracted." The older woman finished for her daughter. Ororo nodded and leaned against the wall. "Would you like to talk about it?"

            "Yes. In the garden?"

            "Sure." They walked in silence, N'Dare watching her daughter gather her thoughts together. Ororo looked up as the greenroom's door closed with a quiet click, enclosing the two women in a cool and moist environment. "What is it my child?"  

            She sat down in a swinging hammock and stared into the sky, dotting with emerging stars. "Someone wants to marry me." N'Dare blinked.

            "And who is he?"

            "His name is Remy LeBeau." Ororo didn't look at her mother as she said that.

            "And…"

            "And I love him too." Ororo's mother closed her eyes briefly. 

            "That's not what I wanted to know. Who is he?" N'Dare laughed slightly. "I mean, you must understand my point of view. This is a bit sudden."

            'You think this is sudden?' Ororo thought. "I know mother, that's why I'm talking to you instead of Daddy. He'd stand up and yell 'Not my daughter. I haven't even met the man, or heard about him until marriage is the subject of conversation?' I don't need to hear that right now."

            "But he does need to meet this Remy person. As do I."

            "I know. He works for Roche Megacorp." 

            "Okay…" The older woman prompted as her daughter faltered.

            "Well…he loves me." Ororo finished helplessly. N'Dare nodded and stood, turning to look out of the bay window that afforded a view of the lake. 

            "This argument will not hold up with your father. He hasn't heard of this man until now. And it doesn't seem that you know much about him either." She said, somewhat amused.

            "No, I guess not." Ororo sat back, crossing her legs and looking at the toe of her boot. "But you didn't know much about Daddy when you ran away to America to marry him." She reminded.

            "Things were different, and I was stupid and impulsive. I just managed to make a great mistake with a man who I never regretted marrying. Who is to say you will be so lucky?" Ororo started to say something until her mother raised her cloud colored eyebrow sternly. "Let's just take this a bit slower, shall we? Find out more about him. Do it while we're away, and when we come back, gently break it to your father he doesn't have a little girl anymore. But he will ask questions, as will I. For which we hope you'll have the answers to."

            "Yes mom." Ro sighed and ran her finger absently through her long locks. She realized she was being a bit hasty. She didn't know much about him, and what she was told had to be verified. Man, she was acting like a silly little school girl.

            "But congratulations. I know how exhilarating it is when love hits so deeply for the first time." N'Dare smiled and looked over her shoulder to her only child. "Just be careful, I can't stand to see you hurt."

            "Of course not." She rose and kissed her mother on the cheek. "I've got to go, some business I have to take care of. I'll see you when you get back since you're heading out so early tomorrow."

            "You too sweetie. Be safe."

            "Always." 


	6. No One Wants To Be Lonely

"What do you think?" Ororo continued to gaze uninterrupted into her water glass. Jean nodded to herself and leaned in close to her best friend. "I'm breaking up with Scott... he said he was madly in love with you."  
  
"What?!" The white haired beauty snapped out of her reverie and glared at Jean. "What did you just say?"  
  
"Nothing." Jean smiled and took a sip of her wine. "What's got you so introspective. You haven't touched your veggie burger."  
  
"Not hungry." She shrugged and moved the burger to the other side of her plate, nosing a fry to the blue table cloth below her crystal plate.  
  
"Not quite what I asked, now was it?" Jean flipped her hair over her shoulder, straightening the toupe corset that laid over the billowy white blouse she wore. Ororo huffed and pulled the sunglasses out of her quaff of hair, sliding them into her slim tube purse hanging on her chair.  
  
"Look heifer, I don't want to get into this right now."  
  
"Bullshit. I don't care, you're going to tell me. Roche called this meeting, so that means there is another mission. I need you there one hundred percent. If not we're risking our lives-"  
  
"I know Jean. You don't have to give me the whole "if you lose focus" routine. I made it up remember?" Ororo sighed and twisted her pearl necklace around her slim finger.  
  
"Then what is making you trip?" Jean watched her best friend twist the amethyst ring around her finger, matching the sleeveless purple velvet dress that draped down to the ground, silver sandals peeking from underneath the hem.  
  
"It's a man."  
  
"Thank god it wasn't a woman, although at this point, I would be grateful for anything for you." Jean smiled sweetly. "Continue."  
  
"Thank you ever so much. I don't know Jean. At the beginning of all of this, I knew where Remy and I stood. He was the blackmailer, I was the blackmailee. That was it. He was the bad guy and I was comfortable with that."  
  
"But then..."  
  
"But then he just decided to show me this stupidly nice side to him... a side I could live with, and then... the lines became blurred, and I don't know what to do."  
  
"Well, you've told him how you feel right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And he feels the say way?"  
  
"Of course... this is me you're talking about." Ororo raised and eyebrow and smiled glancing at a handsome man across the restaurant and getting a raised champaign glass in return. "It wasn't that, it was the fact that I was thinking about bringing someone into my life again. I don't have the best luck with men."  
  
"True. But you must step lightly." Jean checked her nail polish absently, sighing and raking her hand through her hair.  
  
"I know. This would be so much easier if it didn't involve Logan."  
  
"If what didn't involve me?" Logan grinned yet again around a cigar, sitting down and placing his fedora on the table beside his place setting.  
  
"None of your business...speaking of which, lets get down to it." Jean straightened. "What is it this time? The Crown Jewels of England?"  
  
"Hardly. I'm not in antiquities right now." He pushed a small card over to Ororo, and picked up the menu.  
  
"Worthington Technologies?" She asked, her heart beating a little faster.  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"Which branch?" Jean asked, biting the inside of her lip.  
  
"The Pennsylvania headquarters. Get familiar with it. Don't want my prized girls getting caught now do I?"  
  
"That's all a woman is to you, a trophy." She smirked, signaling for the check.  
  
"Besides the point. Please, let me get that for you." Logan dropped a Ben Franklin on the table and rose. "I want it done in two days." Without another word he walked out, under the gaze of the two women.  
  
"Worthington." Was all Ororo could say. "Why Worthington?"  
  
"It just makes sense. Something isn't shitty until it's completely shitty." Jean stood and gathered her purse, sliding her tan tinged glasses on her nose. Ororo agreed, and both left, noticing the nondescript man watching their every move.

~*~

After a while, Jean frowned and looked over her shoulder. "We're being tailed." She said with slight surprise. Ororo took out her compact and aimed it over her shoulder, watching the white car trail about three cars behind them. 

  
  


"And how do you know?"

  
  


"Because it takes the same turns that we do, stays in the same lane, and is always, I repeat always, three cars behind us. That's more than coincidence and you know it."

  
  


"I wonder if it has something to do with the man in the restaurant... he was staring kind of hard through his glasses... very dark, as if he were blind or something. That's what everyone thought at least. I'm guessing it worked for his advantage, because no one could accuse him of staring, thus giving him the opportunity to glance around without being noticed." Ororo slid her sunglasses down her nose and looked at her friend. "Remember when Logan left he nodded at him? Our blind man wasn't blind at all, and I think I know what he was doing... what do you want to bet that he is also the driver of the car that is following us?"

  
  


Jean raised a rust colored eyebrow and smiled. "Logan has hired someone to follow us? Why?"

  
  


"I don't think it's us. If it were he would have hired someone before now. He's watching me... and Remy."

  
  


"Why? I mean, I think he has something better to do than to follow the love lives of his employees." She cocked her head and thought. "Hm.... although that would fit seeing as how we're being blackmailed and Logan holds all the keys... Logan and Remy."

  
  


"I don't need Remy to get out of this. WE don't need Remy to get out of this." Ororo paid the cabbie and they exited the car, walking quickly up the stairs to the lobby of their apartment. Jean looked at the street through the glass in the door, and watched as the white car rolled past slowly, then speeded up to find a parking space. 

  
  


"Yes, but do you really think Logan knows this? You're a woman. Women are conniving, thieving individuals who use their looks to get out of all that is menial and character building in the world. We can't lift a finger without finding a way to bat an eyelash to get someone to do it for us."

  
  


Ororo sighed, and in a building overlooking Central Park, Remy echoed the exhalation. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the file yet again. Jean and Ororo were to break into the Worthington Technologies Corporation Building in Philadelphia. Nothing big, nothing they couldn't handle. Nothing they hadn't done before. But Worthington made his money by selling security technology to companies. Why wouldn't he have the very best for his own company?

  
  


Ororo and Jean could do it. He knew that, but it was his job to tell them what they would be retrieviing. He didn't look at it as stealing anymore. Retrieving from a certain spot and placing it in another one was more like his line of work. But sometimes it was harder to liberate merchandise. That's what made it exhilarating. 

Remy walked over to his desk, shoes making no sound on the Queen Anne pattern on the hardwood floor. In almost one motion he picked up the phone and dialed Ororo's number.

  
  


Once...twice.. "Hello?" Unmistakable. He smiled in spite of himself.

  
  


"Ororo?"

  
  


"Remy." It wasn't a question, and the smile that crept into her voice was warm.

  
  


"I have to meet with you." He felt her mood change on the phone.

  
  


"Of course." Her tone was formal, almost cold, and he winced. It couldn't be helped.

  
  


"I'll see you about nine, your apartment?"

  
  


"That's fine. I'll be waiting for you." 'Is that a promise?' He thought, but it went unsaid.

  
  


"Okay. Until then chere." The click was like a knife licking it's blade against the skin of his chest. Sharp and quick. No nothing... Until then.

~*~

  
  


It was apparent from the look on Jean's face that Ororo was a little short. "What?!" She asked, placing the phone back on the receiver and turning to see what could be eaten in the fridge. 

  
  


"Let me guess who that was. Remy?"

  
  
  
  


"Yes." Ororo contemplated. A salad with grilled tofu or a veggie sandwich. Decisions....

  
  


"What did he want?"

  
  


"Another meeting. He has to tell us what our target is." Reaching for the bread and the condiments, she rifled around for her mushrooms and sliced red and green bell peppers. 

  
  


"When will this meeting take place?" Jean's stomach growled as she walked to the kitchen, taking four pieces of bread and toasting them.

  
  


"In about five hours. Give or take a few minutes." Jean furrowed her brow, thinking.

  
  


"Nine?"

  
  


"My, and to think, they weren't sure you were gifted."

  
  


"Sounds like a date."

  
  


"Walking to the mailbox and running into an old flame is considered a date to you, isn't it hon?" Ororo smiled a quick, fake smile to her best friend and brought out the Boars Head honey mustard and the veggenaise, making room on the counter for the pickles, lettuce, tomato, and onion.

  
  


"No. What makes you think that that man that followed us isn't watching us right now? Logan wouldn't be so suspicious when we meet in a public place. Not at nine at night, and where was it he wanted to meet?" Ororo pursed her lips and slathered on the condiments on the bread.

  
  


"Here."

  
  


"Oh hell no. What if Logan decides to just end it, and that's it? It's over for our parents. It's over for our sisters, and it's over for us. You can't be with Remy if we're dead. Just wanted to remind you." Jean piled the sandwiches high and placed them on plates.

  
  
  
  


"I know that Jean. It's just...I'm not going to show Logan Roche that I'm afraid of him. I refuse to. I'm not afraid of him." 

  
  


"Fuck, prudence isn't cowardice. I know I'm supposed to be the reckless one in the group. But I can see some things you can't. You have to keep a level head. And since you haven't, it falls to me. Babe, get it straight. If you really want to be with him, be with him. But everything in it's cycle. You've always said that right? Everything in it's cycle? Right now, lets concentrate on getting this done, and done right, so our family isn't hanging in the balance. It's like a cloud over my life. I look at Scott as if I might not see him again. I call my mom just to make sure she's still breathing. I took a trip up to Harvard to make sure that Jenna was safe. I don't like doing that. They're my family, and because of me, I'm checking to see if they're still alive. Does that seem right to you?"

  
  


Ororo had stopped cleaning and gave Jean her full attention. Shaking her head slowly, she said, "No."

  
  


"I'm glad you realize. 'Ro, Logan and Remy are responsible for the mess we're in. We need to get out and get the hell away from Roche, and if Remy wants to come, is able to come, then by all means, join the party. But until then, don't forget whose side he's on... or you for that matter." Without another word Jean picked up her sandwich and went to her room, leaving Ororo to think in silence. What she said was true, but it wasn't that simple. Ororo was always the one thinking in black and white, but when tested, it wasn't that simple at all. She was always told that, but never believed it. Until now. 

  
  


You shouldn't love someone who puts your family in danger. That is the action of an insane person. You can't love someone like that. But god help her if she didn't feel her heart soar at the sight of him walking into a room. But what if it were all just some sort of danger kick? Anyone she felt was superior to her she had an attraction to... until she realized they were worthless. Maybe that was what was happening now... or perhaps she had actually found her match.


End file.
